The smell of fresh naan still makes me pause.
It reminds me of mornings in my childhood — the warmth of a tandoor, the first bite of aloo bhujia, and my father reading the newspaper out loud. Back then, diabetes was a distant word. Something old people whispered about. Something that “others” got. Not me.
But here I am. 63. Diabetic. On medication. Watching every grain of rice like it’s a grenade. And somehow — I’m still learning things that no doctor ever told me in my 40s.
Nobody Warns You About the “Creep”
Diabetes doesn’t knock like a burglar. It seeps in. A little more tired than usual. A bit of belly that doesn’t go away. Frequent trips to the bathroom. And yet — most doctors I saw just said, “Lose weight. Cut sugar.”
I wish one of them had sat me down and said, “This is going to take your time. Your attention. Your courage. And if you’re not careful, it might take your sight, your nerves, your kidneys.”
But they didn’t.
So I coasted through my 40s and 50s thinking a walk after dinner was enough. It wasn’t.
The Day My Numbers Scared Me
The turning point wasn’t dramatic. No ER visit. No fainting. Just a glucometer reading after breakfast that hit 300. I looked at it like it was someone else’s body. I felt fine. But my daughter, Fareha — a Doctor of Pharmacy working in Germany — saw the number and froze.
She didn’t yell. She just said, “Abu, this is how people go blind and don’t feel their feet anymore.”
That sentence lodged in my brain like a bullet.
I realized then: diabetes isn’t about sugar. It’s about denial.
What I Wish They’d Told Me in My 40s
So here it is — from one Pakistani uncle to anyone who’ll listen.
- Cutting sugar isn’t enough. Refined carbs are just as bad. That roti you love? It’s a sugar bomb in disguise.
- You need muscle. No one told me muscle helps regulate blood sugar. Lifting small weights three times a week changed everything.
- Sleep matters more than meds. One bad night and your glucose goes wild. I learned this tracking my sleep and sugar levels side-by-side.
- Stress spikes insulin. Family drama, inflation worries, even traffic — they all mess with your hormones.
- Walk after every meal. Not just dinner. Even 10 minutes. Especially after breakfast and lunch.
But the Biggest Lesson?
You can’t outsource this. Not to doctors. Not to pills. Not even to your children.
You have to own it. Monitor it. Respect it — even when it’s invisible.
I still eat rice sometimes. I still enjoy mango season. But I cool the rice, add beans, and eat mangoes with protein. Fareha explained the science. Maryam, my younger daughter (a med student), showed me how it affects insulin curves.
Together, they saved me from blindness I never saw coming.
So no — I don’t hate diabetes. I hate the silence around it. The lazy advice. The “take metformin and forget it” approach.
If you’re in your 40s, listen to an old man who’s been there:
Don’t wait for fear to teach you. Learn now — while your body is still listening.
Maybe that’s the one thing I wish a doctor had said to me all those years ago.